Yesterday it snowed!  For the first time in many years, I was able to look out of the window without worrying where I had to drive to, thanks to lockdown.  I enjoyed the sheer beauty of snowflakes as they swirled down, and I marvelled at the intricate hexagonal design of every flake.  If God can take so much care over the design of the snowflake, we clearly believe in a God who pays attention to detail!  As the flakes grew larger, they started to settle on our bushes and bare trees in the garden, they covered the road, and clung to the window sill.  And there was a misty, grey stillness as I looked out of the window to the fields beyond, and heard that muffled silence which only a snowy landscape produces.

Fortuitously (or perhaps by divine providence) Sunday morning was the first occasion that St Mary’s Church had arranged to live-stream our Zoom Holy Communion from our homes.  Through the wonders of modern technology, we could broadcast our worship as a community from the safety and comfort of our own homes.  This was probably a huge relief to all those members of the Ministry Team who live in remote villages, half an hour’s drive from Banbury along very small country lanes and over hilly slopes.  I know I have found it rather sad not being able to gather in person with our church community on Sundays for many months now, but on a snow day, actually, it was pure joy to know that I could participate in the service without setting foot out of doors.

After lunch, I togged up in all my warmest outdoor wear to enjoy the snow at first hand on a winter walk.  The birds were singing with surprising enthusiasm in the hedgerow in the half light of a wintry afternoon.  The snow was lying on the muddy path, but had already reduced to a speckled effect across the ploughed fields. The lane was a slushy brown colour, rather than the pristine white of first thing in the morning when my family had gone out earlier with the dog.  I could see from their photos that the snowfall had lessened and the white world had changed already within a matter of hours.  But I wasn’t disappointed by this.  Rather I took comfort from the alteration in circumstances which is happening around us all the time.  That is why we have to appreciate every moment of the now as well as of the snow, because we shall never experience this day again, whether it is joyous or painful for us, whether for good or for ill.

The words of Edward Thomas (1878 – 1917) sum up the thaw eloquently, and reflect on the passing nature of snow as, over one hundred years later, we wait for this winter of lockdown to pass:

Thaw

Over the land freckled with snow half-thawed

The speculating rooks at their nests cawed

And saw from elm-tops, delicate as flower of grass,

What we below could not see, Winter pass.

Sarah Bourne, Chaplain for the Arts – 27^th January 2021    sarahbourne@banburystmary.org.uk